Or at least, he feels like he is. His stomach is churning and his chest feels funny.
He wants to blame the Tom Yum soup he just ate but the almost full leftover container in his hand said otherwise. He had barely ate any of it - too anxious to eat - and the evidence of it suddenly felt heavy in his left hand.
It was funny really. Pick had been too anxious to eat, worried about any adverse effects the spicynes of the soup would have on his stomach and thus on his evening plans. A worry that hadn't occured to him at the time of ordering but he wasnt in the mood to call the waiter back.
Especially not when Porsche was talking a mile a minute about anything and everything of Nong Emma. And when Emma was the topic it was inevitable that Rome would be brought up, as well.
As always, Pick had tried not to appear very eager but he wasnt sure how well of a job he was doing. It seemed that lately Pick hanged onto every gleam of information he could gather on the shorty, without actually having to ask Porsche.
Pick wasnt sure if Porsche had caught onto his increased interest in the shorty but with how often he was working Rome into conversation, Pick had a feeling that Porsche suspected something.
And if Porsche called him out on it there was no way Pick could confirm or deny anything.
Pick and Rome were not dating. At least, not yet. Pick wasnt entirely sure about the direction of their relationship or his feelings. Because he did have feelings and Rome was patient enough to let him work through them. Rome was patient enough to wait for him.
Pick really feels like he's going to throw up. His stomach is still turning despite not really having any contents in it. And hes having a hard time breathing. His chest feels so tight...
He can practically feel Porsche's eyes burning into him. But he doesnt pay him much attention. He cant really. Not when his eyes seemed glued straight ahead at Rome. Rome who has another mans hands wrapped around his shoulders.
"Maybe its a cousin," Porsche helpfully supplies but his words drift off as the man in front pulls Rome further into him to place a quick peck on Rome's head.
Pick watches as Rome relaxes into the touch and smiles. A smile Pick had thought were reserved only for him. Guess he was wrong.
" A really close cousin," Porsche amends.
Pick watches as the man proceeds to bend down to Rome's ears and whispher something that has Rome giggling.
The sound of Rome's laughter is what breaks Pick out of his shock. Pick manages to stomp down the bile rising in his throat, channeling his mixed emotions into the only one thats familiar - anger.
And God he is furious. He's mad at Porsche and Emma for suggesting this double date. He's mad at the mysterious man who has his arms around Rome. He's mad at Rome for allowing it. But above all he's mad at himself.
"I'm going home," Pick says forcing his leftovers onto Porsche and briskly walking away, ignoring Porsche calling out for him.
Pick manages to make it to the parking lot before he feels someone pulling on his wrist. Pick yanks his hand away and turns around ready to berate Porsche for even following him but the words die on his mouth at seeing who it is.
Beautiful Rome whom Pick is currently angry at.
" Is everything okay, P'Pick?" Rome asks confusion clear on his face.
Pick keeps his mouth closed, trying not to lash out at Rome.
"If your not okay, you can tell me?" Rome tries again, not dissuaded at the fact that Pick was walking away from him.
"P'Pick, whats wrong? Talk to me." Rome asks a third time trying to keep up with Pick's pace.
"Im fine!" Pick finally says. He doesnt sound very convincing. "You should go to your boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" Rome, again, looks confused.
"Just forget it. Go back inside!"
" Boyfriend??" Rome doesnt let it go. Too stubborn for his own good. "Thats not funny. P'Pick you know I like you. I said I would wait for you didnt I?"
" Yeah? And for how long? "
"What if I never come around? Huh? What then ?! And even if I did. I doubt I can be affectionate in public like that. Would you be able to handle that? Can you handle all my insecurities? Could you stand being with a person like me?' How many outbursts will you tolerate before realizing its not worth it. That the fights arent worth it. That I'm not worth it!"
" You are worth it to me." Rome says without missing a beat. "P'Pick I lov -"
"Dont." Pick interrupts. He doesn't want to hear the "L" word. Not when he can't reply back. Not when his own emotions are a turmoil and he can't make sense of himself. It's not fair to Rome.
"Just go back inside." Pick turns again, not willing to look Rome in the eyes and see the grief undoubtedly there.
"You are worth it to me." Rome repeats one last time before he too turns and walks away.
Pick hears the footsteps fade away the further they get. He doesn't dare to look back.
Pick was a coward after all.
'Just fucking fantastic! This was not how today was supposed to go. Pick you ruin everything. Is it so hard not to be a screw up. '
(Pretend its a parking lot π)
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